I am not, however, a mere puddle. I do not have enough moisture left in me to even sweat a small puddle. All my bodily hydration has been sucked right out of me. I feel like an old prune found lost and forgotten in a dark cupboard corner. A prune wrapped in equally ancient buffalo jerky, all tough and wrinkly.

I am nearly mummified. It isn't pretty nor is it as grand as Egyptian mummies that were at least buried with golden masks, treasures and stored in richly detailed hand-carved sarcophagus. But since the literal translation sarcophagus is "flesh eater," I think I'm better off sporting the mummy look.

Who knows? I could be setting the next beauty craze and start my own line of high-end potions and lotions: Post Mortem Nefertiti Skin and Body Balm. My product tag line? "Discover the ancient secrets of beauty even in drought and death." Catchy, huh?

By Thanksgiving, any guy in a diner, any gal in a supermarket and any farmer or rancher out standing in his or her field, orchard or grazing land could have told you we were in a drought.

Thing is, no one was asking those who make their livelihood off the land to feed the rest of us. Seems to me if anyone were to have the definitive say in declaring a drought it would be those in agriculture. But, noooooooo, California was not in an official drought until five days ago when the governor said so.

Seriously? I'm sorry but I think it's hysterical that it takes a politician to declare what Mother Nature has made so blatantly indisputably apparent: "Hey Kids! We're in a drought!"

Fires will rage, fields will lay fallow, lakes will dry up, rivers will run low if they run at all and women will flock to buy my Post Mortem Nefertiti Skin products. Yep, I can see me now on the cover of Forbes: Skin Product Maven Out Earns, By Millions, Legal Marijuana Distributors in Colorado and Washington Combined.

But here's the catch to my make-a-billion by taking advantage of a natural disaster by cleverly using ancient Egyptian tricks and tips.

We are in the worst drought in California's 163-year history. So, I ask you, just how the heck am I going to get all the oregano-veggie-herbal goodness — honey, milk (donkey milk was Cleopatra's preference), aloe vera, avocado, rosemary, castor and olive oils — I need when there isn't enough water to grow or nurture them? Oh and that's not even taking into consideration the current plight of honey bees.